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Whirlwind Productions (Cyclone's snippets & update announcements)

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Conclusion?

Usain Bolt must don a mask, as Earths first Super Hero, The Man Of Lightning!

Or I need more of the good stuff, whatever comes first.
 
Cyclone said:
Not precisely true. Mythbusters tested it. It is perfectly possible to catch an arrow without harming yourself. What is not possible is doing so when the archer is within a certain distance of you or doing so reliably, and the limitation is reaction time, not the arrow doing damage to your hand (unless you catch it with your palm or something, I guess).
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I'm pretty sure it's only possible with low power (under ~30 lb draw) bows.

Cyclone said:
And Monk!Taylor is clearly only demonstrating a new aspect of physics that has thus far remained undiscovered. That's the thing about science. It's descriptive, not restrictive.
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True. Doesn't change the fact she demonstrated abilities which are far beyond the accepted limits of human biology, aka superhuman abilities.
 
TheUnicorn said:
True. Doesn't change the fact she demonstrated abilities which are far beyond the accepted limits of human biology, aka superhuman abilities.
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Its just not chemically possible, there isn't enough energy in the way muscles work for it to happen, that just means that there are energy sources besides chemistry involved.

In this setting, it seems to mean that just because nobody has discovered it yet, doesn't mean it hasn't always existed.
 
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(Worm) A Matter of Perception: Part II
  • Threadmarks
    • (Part I | Part II)

    A Matter of Perception (Worm)
    Part II​

    I was... on patrol, I guess. More like running around in a costume, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. I... I wanted to be a hero. My costume was a bit... edgier than I would have preferred, but... I didn't exactly have much of a budget to work with, and my power kind of lends itself to that anyway. I was roofhopping when I saw them in an alley, a redhead about my age and her dad cornered by some ABB thugs.

    I'd jumped down onto the car, trying to find a good position. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but one of them had a knife to the girl's face.

    ...

    Look, I was thirteen years old, it was my first night out, and I... I was scared, okay?

    Anyway, the redhead saw me, looked straight at me, and really started struggling. Dumb, really. She didn't stand a chance, and she had to know it. Only thing fighting was going to get her if I hadn't been there was a quicker death. But the next thing I knew, I was in the thick of it, kicking ass like I stepped out of an Aleph action movie.

    I mean, seriously. They outnumbered me at least five to one, outmassed me by over twice as much, and somehow, I was still kicking their asses. That- that wasn't me.

    After that, I found myself acting... different. In little ways, at first. More aggressive, more confident. I thought, maybe, I was feeling more confident because of how badass I'd been in that fight. But then a week later, I was back in that alley again, spouting some binary nonsense about strong and weak to that same redhead. To Emma. And the changes started getting worse.

    You... you can probably guess the rest. Mom... Mom knew I had trouble, thought it was a phase. My brother was heading off to college, so he didn't exactly have time for me. When I joined the Wards last fall, the PRT hadn't known what I was like before.

    Then I was out of town for a week, and for the first time in a year and a half, I was free. The rest of the Wards are on lockdown too, and I... I figured, if she affected anyone else... it'd be you, Taylor.

    I'm sorry.

    I am... so, so sorry.

    (Part I | Part II)​
     
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    • (Worm) Tinker Taylor, Cyberspy: Contingency 1.2 - Crystal
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    • (Contingency 1.1 - Taylor | Contingency 1.2 - Crystal | Contingency 1.3 - Emma)

    Tinker Taylor, Cyberspy
    Contingency 1.2 - Crystal​

    I settled into the hospital chair. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but I was used to it. Amy did a lot of volunteer work, after all, and Victoria couldn't always pick her up. Coupled with my habit of arriving early wherever I needed to go, that meant I got used to hospital chairs.

    I spared a glance for the poor girl in the bed before firing up my laptop.

    That paper wasn't going to finish itself, after all.

    I wasn't the girl's only guard detail, of course -- there were two PRT officers right outside the door, and the entire hallway had been cordoned off -- but Mr. Hebert had been understandably unwilling to trust his daughter's safety to the PRT, and while everyone in New Wave except Amy took turns, Dad and I were the ones with the most flexible schedules. Eric and Victoria still had school, Mom was taking point as New Wave's face in light of this fiasco, Aunt Carol had to do damage control for the firm, since one of her colleagues' daughters had been involved, and Uncle Mark... well, crisis or not, he still had his issues.

    I sighed. New Wave may not like the PRT -- and bullshit like this was why -- but the Empire 88 was calling for Shadow Stalker's head on a pike -- quite possibly literally -- and with the Empire firing up the rhetoric, the Azn Bad Boys were mobilizing to counter them. It didn't help that Shadow Stalker had apparently bolted within hours of the broadcast starting, leaving the PRT looking even more incompetent. We had to somehow coordinate with the PRT while keeping our distance from them to minimize any spillover, and it was exhausting.

    Plus, bodyguard detail for the Heberts. There were people who would be looking for them who most certainly didn't have their best interests in mind. Shadow Stalker was probably at the top of the list, but Taylor would also be a target for forced recruitment by the gangs.

    Director Piggot was almost certainly on her way out; rumor had it, they were planning on transferring in someone from elsewhere to clean house. Fortunately, the Protectorate was getting through this relatively unscathed, since unlike some directors, Piggot had kept the Wards under the PRT's direct supervision rather than delegating to the Protectorate. That was changing, of course; the Wards were being moved out to the rig, much to everyone's inconvenience. The Youth Guard was also under fire; over the years, they had successfully lobbied for a number of policies that had heavily restricted how much the PRT could monitor or interfere with the Wards' lives when they weren't in costume "in order to foster a normal, healthy lifestyle."

    I snorted at the thought.

    You can bet those policies were going to be revisited.

    Shaking those thoughts off, I reopened my half-finished paper, pulled up the university's electronic library in another window, and went to work.

    Half an hour later, my screen went blank, replaced with a command line. I blinked. What-

    : WHERE AM I
    : |    ​

    "What the?" I muttered. I looked around, then turned back to my laptop and began typing.

    : Who are you?
    : MY NAME IS TAYLOR
    : |    ​

    I blinked again as the implication sank in, then looked over at the girl lying comatose on the hospital bed.

    "Holy shit."

    (Contingency 1.1 - Taylor | Contingency 1.2 - Crystal | Contingency 1.3 - Emma)​
     
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    • Cyclone said:
    (Part I)

    A Matter of Perception: Part II (Worm)

    I was... on patrol, I guess. More like running around in a costume, trying to figure out what the hell I was doing. I... I wanted to be a hero. My costume was a bit... edgier than I would have preferred, but... I didn't exactly have much of a budget to work with, and my power kind of lends itself to that anyway. I was roofhopping when I saw them in an alley, a redhead about my age and her dad cornered by some ABB thugs.

    I'd jumped down onto the car, trying to find a good position. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but one of them had a knife to the girl's face.

    ...

    Look, I was thirteen years old, it was my first night out, and I... I was scared, okay?

    Anyway, the redhead saw me, looked straight at me, and really started struggling. Dumb, really. She didn't stand a chance, and she had to know it. Only thing fighting was going to get her if I hadn't been there was a quicker death. But the next thing I knew, I was in the thick of it, kicking ass like I stepped out of an Aleph action movie.

    I mean, seriously. They outnumbered me at least five to one, outmassed me by over twice as much, and somehow, I was still kicking their asses. That- that wasn't me.

    After that, I found myself acting... different. In little ways, at first. More aggressive, more confident. I thought, maybe, I was feeling more confident because of how badass I'd been in that fight. But then a week later, I was back in that alley again, spouting some binary nonsense about strong and weak to that same redhead. To Emma. And the changes started getting worse.

    You... you can probably guess the rest. Mom... Mom knew I had trouble, thought it was a phase. My brother was heading off to college, so he didn't exactly have time for me. When I joined the Wards last fall, the PRT hadn't known what I was like before.

    Then I was out of town for a week, and for the first time in a year and a half, I was free. The rest of the Wards are on lockdown too, and I... I figured, if she affected anyone else... it'd be you, Taylor.

    I'm sorry.

    I am... so, so sorry.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Damn...

    Cyclone said:
    (Contingency 0.1 - Taylor)

    Tinker Taylor, Cyberspy
    Contingency 0.2 - Crystal

    I settled into the hospital chair. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but I was used to it. Amy did a lot of volunteer work, after all, and Victoria couldn't always pick her up. Coupled with my habit of arriving early wherever I needed to go, that meant I got used to hospital chairs.

    I spared a glance for the poor girl in the bed before firing up my laptop.

    That paper wasn't going to finish itself, after all.

    I wasn't the girl's only guard detail, of course -- there were two PRT officers right outside the door, and the entire hallway had been cordoned off -- but Mr. Hebert had been understandably unwilling to trust his daughter's safety to the PRT, and while everyone in New Wave except Amy took turns, Dad and I were the ones with the most flexible schedules. Eric and Victoria still had school, Mom was taking point as New Wave's face in light of this fiasco, Aunt Carol had to do damage control for the firm, since one of her colleagues' daughters had been involved, and Uncle Mark... well, crisis or not, he still had his issues.

    I sighed. New Wave may not like the PRT -- and bullshit like this was why -- but the Empire 88 was calling for Shadow Stalker's head on a pike -- quite possibly literally -- and with the Empire firing up the rhetoric, the Azn Bad Boys were mobilizing to counter them. It didn't help that Shadow Stalker had apparently bolted within hours of the broadcast starting, leaving the PRT looking even more incompetent. We had to somehow coordinate with the PRT while keeping our distance from them to minimize any spillover, and it was exhausting.

    Plus, bodyguard detail for the Heberts. There were people who would be looking for them who most certainly didn't have their best interests in mind. Shadow Stalker was probably at the top of the list, but Taylor would also be a target for forced recruitment by the gangs.

    Director Piggot was almost certainly on her way out; rumor had it, they were planning on transferring in someone from elsewhere to clean house. Fortunately, the Protectorate was getting through this relatively unscathed, since unlike some directors, Piggot had kept the Wards under the PRT's direct supervision rather than delegating to the Protectorate. That was changing, of course; the Wards were being moved out to the rig, much to everyone's inconvenience. The Youth Guard was also under fire; over the years, they had successfully lobbied for a number of policies that had heavily restricted how much the PRT could monitor or interfere with the Wards' lives when they weren't in costume "in order to foster a normal, healthy lifestyle."

    I snorted at the thought.

    You can bet those policies were going to be revisited.

    Shaking those thoughts off, I reopened my half-finished paper, pulled up the university's electronic library in another window, and went to work.

    Half an hour later, my screen went blank, replaced with a command line. I blinked. What-

    : WHERE AM I
    : |    ​

    "What the?" I muttered. I looked around, then turned back to my laptop and began typing.

    : Who are you?
    : MY NAME IS TAYLOR
    : |    ​

    I blinked again as the implication sank in, then looked over at the girl lying comatose on the hospital bed.

    "Holy shit."

    (Contingency 0.3 - Emma)
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    Click to shrink...

    Even more damn.

    This is why they get hugs.
     
    You know, for Matter of Perception II, I just realized another layer of mindfuck.

    When Taylor got through year after year of abuse from the Trio...was that mental fortitude her own, or was it another aspect of Emma's powers (and going by Sophia's speech, it seems pretty clear it's Emma)?

    After all, none of their emotions are trustworthy anymore. That's a loooooot of self-doubt and insecurity to work through, when the few things you can take some measure of pride in may not even be your own.

    Or if Taylor was holding out hope that someday she and Emma could repair some of their friendship? Probably not anymore, because any face to face meetings are vulnerable to Emma's Master power. Maybe it'd be safe to talk over a phone or the internet, but otherwise? Neither Taylor nor Sophia will probably ever be comfortable in Emma's presence again.

    Still, gotta wonder where Emma got her shard from. Original trigger? Or did she get a bud off of Regent, or even Glory Girl? That may be a plot thread to explore, although mostly a sideshow.

    Though, I imagine Vista may be kinda sorta happy to meet the real Shadow Stalker. Circumstances could be better, but this Sophia could still be an improvement. Which is quite sad.
     
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    Subrosian_Smithy said:
    Woah, that's interesting. I wonder, has Taylor uploaded herself or is she just communicating through the computer?
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    Considering the nature of the second trigger I think the former is more probable. If there was someone who ever wanted to leave her body is Taylor, and simply gathering information was useless from her point of view since it didn't help with the bullying.
     
    (Worm) Tinker Taylor, Cyberspy: Contingency 1.3 - Emma
  • Threadmarks
    • (Contingency 1.2 - Crystal | Contingency 1.3 - Emma | Contingency 1.4 - Dean)



    Tinker Taylor, Cyberspy
    Contingency 1.3 - Emma​

    I'd actually been worried when the broadcast started. Dad had even pulled me out of school, kept me home for a couple of days, just in case, but he shouldn't have bothered. While Taylor's broadcast had named me the ringleader, caught me saying mean things, they were just words, and no one really cared about words when they had footage of a Ward pushing her into that disgusting locker and locking her in, followed by said Ward going on the run.

    Sure, I'd gotten a few weeks of detention and in-school suspension, and Dad had grounded me for a week, but that had been it.

    I was untouchable.

    I missed Sophia. She'd offered to take me with her, but losing her and having to put up with a few weeks of boredom was better than life on the run. Besides, when push came to shove, she had run. Me? I could come back from this. I could. Just stay quiet, act contrite, talk about how I'd learned my lesson if the subject ever came up. Easy.

    It was Friday morning, and I was walking along with Julia before I had to report in for my suspension when someone shoved me to the ground.

    "Hey!" I snapped, shaking my head dazedly.

    "What a klutz," Ernest Peterson sneered. "You should watch where you're going, traitor."

    He meant "race traitor." Rumor had it Ernest was Empire 88, but no one had ever confirmed it.

    "What's going on here?" It was Principal Blackwell, and the crowd parted before her. She was having a rough time, and it was almost certain she was going to lose her job, but until then, she'd been watching me like a hawk.

    I looked over at him and pointed at Ernest. "He pushed me."

    Blackwell turned to Ernest. "Is this true?"

    "Don't be ridiculous," Ernest said, folding his arms. "The dumb cu- girl tripped and fell all by herself."

    Blackwell looked around. "Did anyone else see what happened?"

    I looked around, searching for a friendly face. "Julia!" I said. "Julia saw what happened! Tell her!"

    "Yeah, Julia," Ernest echoed. "Go ahead. Tell her what you saw."

    "I- uh-" Julia stammered as the crowd stepped away from her. She shook her head. "I didn't see anything."

    What? But... she had been right there...

    Blackwell looked down at me disapprovingly. "Miss Barnes, in light of recent events, I would think you'd refrain from throwing around false accusations."

    What?

    "But- but it's true!"

    Blackwell shook her head. "Without any other witnesses, it's your word against his, Miss Barnes, and given how much and how frequently you've been lying to us in the past few months alone, I'm sure you'll forgive me if I take your words with a grain of salt."

    What?

    She looked around at the gathered crowd. "Everyone, move along. You all still have classes to go to. Miss Barnes, with me. Let's see if we can get you to your suspension without further incident."

    * * *​

    At least I could look forward to getting back home again. Dad had grounded me and revoked my smartphone and internet privileges, but that ended tonight.

    Once I had my smartphone back, I shot a text message to Julia. Because seriously. What had that been about? She had to have seen Ernest push me.

    While I waited for a response, I checked my e-mail. Hate mail, hate mail, spam, hate mail...

    This was going to take a while.

    None of my friends had e-mailed me, but then again, they knew Dad had revoked my internet privileges, so that wasn't surprising. Huh, an e-mail from the modeling agency. What did they want?

    Dear Miss Barnes,

    We regret to inform you that we will no longer be needing your services. In light of recent events, we have determined that you are not a good fit for    ​

    I stopped reading.

    They fired me? They fired me?

    I couldn't believe it! They fired me!

    I glanced at my phone. And why hadn't Julia texted me back yet? She'd had plenty of time to respond. Scowling, I turned back to the computer and logged into FaceSpace, tabbing over to my Friends list.

    It was empty. What?

    Great, so FaceSpace had to break down too. Rolling my eyes, I tried PMing Julia manually, only to get an error.

    This user has blocked you.​

    I stared.

    That... that didn't make any sense.

    (Contingency 1.2 - Crystal | Contingency 1.3 - Emma | Contingency 1.4 - Dean)​
     
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    • Cyclone said:
    I looked around, searching for a friendly face. "Julia!" I said. "Julia saw what happened! Tell her!"

    "Yeah, Julia," Ernest echoed. "Go ahead. Tell her what you saw."

    "I- uh-" Julia stammered as the crowd stepped away from her. She shook her head. "I didn't see anything."

    What? But... she had been right there...
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    Cyclone said:
    None of my friends had e-mailed me, but then again, they knew Dad had revoked my internet privileges, so that wasn't surprising. Huh, an e-mail from the modeling agency. What did they want?

    Dear Miss Barnes,

    We regret to inform you that we will no longer be needing your services. In light of recent events, we have determined that you are not a good fit for
    I stopped reading.

    They fired me? They fired me?

    I couldn't believe it! They fired me!
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    Karma is indeed a thing. People who are like what Emma was twisted into only have "friends" so long as said people don't smell blood in the water.
     
    Oh, I'm sorry Emma, did you you REALLY think that just because the media found the bit with the Ward more interesting that you wouldn't be in deep shit? Oh wait, I'm not sorry at all.

    Edit: Also, nice GitS reference with the image.
     
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